plays [16]
...?
MARY. You can say that to me? And that is all you have to say?
BRODIE. O no, not all.
MARY. Speak out, sir. I am not afraid.
BRODIE. I suppose you want my consent?
MARY. Can you ask?
BRODIE. I didn't know. You seem to have got on pretty well
without it so far.
MARY. O shame on you! shame on you!
BRODIE. Perhaps you may be able to do without it altogether. I
hope so. For you'll never have it. ... Mary! ... I hate to see
you look like that. If I could say anything else, believe me, I
would say it. But I have said all; every word is spoken; there's
the end.
MARY. It shall not be the end. You owe me explanation; and I'll
have it.
BRODIE. Isn't my 'No' enough, Mary?
MARY. It might be enough for me; but it is not, and it cannot
be, enough for him. He has asked me to be his wife; he tells me
his happiness is in my hands - poor hands, but they shall not
fail him, if my poor heart should break! If he has chosen and
set his hopes upon me, of all women in the world, I shall find
courage somewhere to be worthy of the choice. And I dare you to
leave this room until you tell me all your thoughts - until you
prove that this is good and right.
BRODIE. Good and right? They are strange words, Mary. I mind
the time when it was good and right to be your father's daughter
and your brother's sister . . . Now! . . .
MARY. Have I changed? Not even in thought. My father, Walter
says, shall live and die with us. He shall only have gained
another son. And you - you know what he thinks of you; you know
what I would do for you.
BRODIE. Give him up.
MARY. I have told you: not without a reason.
BRODIE. You must.
MARY. I will not.
BRODIE. What if I told you that you could only compass your
happiness and his at the price of my ruin?
MARY. Your ruin?
BRODIE. Even so.
MARY. Ruin!
BRODIE. It has an ugly sound, has it not?
MARY. O Willie, what have you done? What have you done? What
have you done?
BRODIE. I cannot tell you, Mary. But you may trust me. You
must give up this Leslie . . . and at once. It is to save me.
MARY. I would die for you, dear, you know that. But I cannot be
false to him. Even for you, I cannot be false to him.
BRODIE. We shall see. Let me take you to your room. Come.
And, remember, it is for your brother's sake. It is to save me.
MARY. I am true Brodie. Give me time, and you shall not find me
wanting. But it is all so sudden ... so strange and dreadful!
You will give me time, will you not? I am only a woman, and ...
O my poor Walter! It will break his heart! It will break his
heart! (A KNOCK.)
BRODIE. You hear!
MARY. Yes, yes. Forgive me. I am going. I will go. It is to
save you, is it not? To save you. Walter . . . Mr. Leslie ... O
Deacon, Deacon, God forgive you! (SHE GOES OUT.)
BRODIE. Amen. But will He?
SCENE VII
BRODIE, HUNT
HUNT (HAT IN HAND). Mr. Deacon Brodie, I believe?
BRODIE. I am he, Mr. -
HUNT. Hunt, sir; an officer from Sir John Fielding of Bow
Street.
BRODIE. There can be no better passport than the name. In what
can I serve you?
HUNT. You'll excuse me, Mr. Deacon.
BRODIE. Your duty excuses you, Mr. Hunt.
HUNT. Your obedient. The fact is, Mr. Deacon [we in the office
see a good deal of the lives of private parties; and I needn't
tell a gentleman of your experience it's part of our duty to hold
our tongues. Now], it's come to my knowledge that you are a
trifle jokieous. Of course I know there ain't any harm in that.
I've been young myself, Mr. Deacon, and speaking -
BRODIE. O, but pardon me. Mr. Hunt, I am not going to discuss
my private character with you.
HUNT. To be sure you ain't. [And do I blame you? Not me.]
But, speaking as one man of the world to another, you naturally
see a great deal of bad company.
BRODIE. Not half so much as you do. But I see what you're
driving at; and if I can illuminate the course of justice, you
may command me. (HE
MARY. You can say that to me? And that is all you have to say?
BRODIE. O no, not all.
MARY. Speak out, sir. I am not afraid.
BRODIE. I suppose you want my consent?
MARY. Can you ask?
BRODIE. I didn't know. You seem to have got on pretty well
without it so far.
MARY. O shame on you! shame on you!
BRODIE. Perhaps you may be able to do without it altogether. I
hope so. For you'll never have it. ... Mary! ... I hate to see
you look like that. If I could say anything else, believe me, I
would say it. But I have said all; every word is spoken; there's
the end.
MARY. It shall not be the end. You owe me explanation; and I'll
have it.
BRODIE. Isn't my 'No' enough, Mary?
MARY. It might be enough for me; but it is not, and it cannot
be, enough for him. He has asked me to be his wife; he tells me
his happiness is in my hands - poor hands, but they shall not
fail him, if my poor heart should break! If he has chosen and
set his hopes upon me, of all women in the world, I shall find
courage somewhere to be worthy of the choice. And I dare you to
leave this room until you tell me all your thoughts - until you
prove that this is good and right.
BRODIE. Good and right? They are strange words, Mary. I mind
the time when it was good and right to be your father's daughter
and your brother's sister . . . Now! . . .
MARY. Have I changed? Not even in thought. My father, Walter
says, shall live and die with us. He shall only have gained
another son. And you - you know what he thinks of you; you know
what I would do for you.
BRODIE. Give him up.
MARY. I have told you: not without a reason.
BRODIE. You must.
MARY. I will not.
BRODIE. What if I told you that you could only compass your
happiness and his at the price of my ruin?
MARY. Your ruin?
BRODIE. Even so.
MARY. Ruin!
BRODIE. It has an ugly sound, has it not?
MARY. O Willie, what have you done? What have you done? What
have you done?
BRODIE. I cannot tell you, Mary. But you may trust me. You
must give up this Leslie . . . and at once. It is to save me.
MARY. I would die for you, dear, you know that. But I cannot be
false to him. Even for you, I cannot be false to him.
BRODIE. We shall see. Let me take you to your room. Come.
And, remember, it is for your brother's sake. It is to save me.
MARY. I am true Brodie. Give me time, and you shall not find me
wanting. But it is all so sudden ... so strange and dreadful!
You will give me time, will you not? I am only a woman, and ...
O my poor Walter! It will break his heart! It will break his
heart! (A KNOCK.)
BRODIE. You hear!
MARY. Yes, yes. Forgive me. I am going. I will go. It is to
save you, is it not? To save you. Walter . . . Mr. Leslie ... O
Deacon, Deacon, God forgive you! (SHE GOES OUT.)
BRODIE. Amen. But will He?
SCENE VII
BRODIE, HUNT
HUNT (HAT IN HAND). Mr. Deacon Brodie, I believe?
BRODIE. I am he, Mr. -
HUNT. Hunt, sir; an officer from Sir John Fielding of Bow
Street.
BRODIE. There can be no better passport than the name. In what
can I serve you?
HUNT. You'll excuse me, Mr. Deacon.
BRODIE. Your duty excuses you, Mr. Hunt.
HUNT. Your obedient. The fact is, Mr. Deacon [we in the office
see a good deal of the lives of private parties; and I needn't
tell a gentleman of your experience it's part of our duty to hold
our tongues. Now], it's come to my knowledge that you are a
trifle jokieous. Of course I know there ain't any harm in that.
I've been young myself, Mr. Deacon, and speaking -
BRODIE. O, but pardon me. Mr. Hunt, I am not going to discuss
my private character with you.
HUNT. To be sure you ain't. [And do I blame you? Not me.]
But, speaking as one man of the world to another, you naturally
see a great deal of bad company.
BRODIE. Not half so much as you do. But I see what you're
driving at; and if I can illuminate the course of justice, you
may command me. (HE